NoahI couldn’t help but wonder what Clara wanted to ask us. Her voice was hesitant, almost timid, as she spoke. "I’m… I’m looking for a place to live," she began, her eyes darting between Raymond and me. "I just finished college, but I don’t have a job yet. My grandparents left me a small inheritance, but… it’s not much."Her vulnerability was palpable. I could see how difficult it was for her to admit this. Before I could respond, Owen's mother stepped in. "We would love to take her in, but…" Her voice trailed off, filled with the weight of unspoken sorrow. Though Owen had been adopted, his parents had always treated him as their own flesh and blood. His death had left a gaping wound in their hearts. A wound that time had yet to heal.Owen’s father took a deep breath, his voice steady but tinged with sadness. "We’ve decided to move abroad for a while," he explained, glancing at his wife for support. "We need some distance, a change of scenery, to process everything that’s happened.
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